


No Monsters in Moomin Valley

by Icka M Chif (mischif)



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Blanket Permission, Episode Related, M/M, Monsters, Reveal, Spooky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29033559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischif/pseuds/Icka%20M%20Chif
Summary: Now that the scary part’s over, the whole thing with the Groke seems marvellously exciting. The kind of adventures that Pappa writes about and Moomin not only lived through it, but figured out how to save the day and lure the Groke away.But now Moomin’s thoughts keep turning towards the Groke.Such as the fact that the Groke didn't chase Snufkin.(Post Season 1, episode 9, the Night of the Groke.)
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll & Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 61





	No Monsters in Moomin Valley

* * *

The Groke didn’t chase Snufkin.

It was an odd thought to have stuck in Moomin’s head late at night when he should be sleeping. Mamma and Pappa are back, safely tucked into their beds, and he can hear Pappa’s snorting. Sniff’s here too, sleeping in the guest room because he didn’t want to worry about running into the Groke again tonight. 

Now that the scary part’s over, the whole thing seems marvellously exciting. The kind of adventures that Pappa writes about and Moomin not only lived through it, but figured out how to save the day and lure the Groke away. 

And Moomin’s thoughts kept turning towards the Groke. Huddling in Snufkin’s tent, his very nearly empty tent with not even a blanket on the ground, watching their breath freeze as she passed by. 

When Moomin had told Sniff that there were no monsters in Moomin Valley earlier in the evening, he’d done so without thinking, because of course there weren’t monsters in Moomin Valley. The valley was safe. But when Snufkin had said there were no monsters here, it was with the air of someone who had known and checked. 

And then Snufkin had proceeded to talk about the Groke, but didn’t call her a monster. She was big, scary, and could freeze you to death if you got too close, which Moomin would have thought would easily describe a monster. But Snufkin called her a creature, and a misunderstood one at that. He’d been more wary than afraid of her, working to keep Moomin and Sniff from her sight. 

When they’d gotten to the beach, and the Groke had turned her attention away from Mamma and Pappa, the Groke hadn’t even looked at Snufkin, even while he was holding a lamp. It was almost like Snufkin was part of the scenery to her. 

The thing was, with as much wandering as Snufkin does, he would be the one to definitely know if there were any monsters here. And Moomin trusted Snufkin when he said that there weren’t. 

But Moomin was Snufkin’s best friend. And Moomin liked to think that he knew the vagabond the best out of everyone else in the world. And while Snufkin didn’t lie per se, he did occasionally omit information. Partly because Snufkin was a private person with a mysterious background, and partly as a way of trying to protect them from things outside the valley.

So while he trusted Snufkin when he said there were no monsters in the valley, it didn’t feel entirely like the whole truth either. 

And then there was the paw thing. 

Snufkin wasn’t a very touchy person, he didn’t offer contact very often, and wasn’t comfortable when he was touched. And yet he was practically handsy with Moomin today on the ice. Helping Moomin get his balance, getting Moomin out of the log, catching him to stop sliding. Moomin didn’t think he’d ever had so much physical contact with Snufkin in the history of forever. 

Which would be noteworthy in and of itself, but it also made Moomin aware of something he hadn’t been before. 

Snufkin’s paws were cold. 

The obvious conclusion was it was because they’d been skating on ice left by the Groke. Except for two things. Going over everything in his mind, he couldn’t remember Snufkin ever touching the ice. That much exercise, he would have expected Snufkin’s furless paws to be warm. 

And Moomin had touched the ice. Slid down on his palms there for a while, and when he’d accidentally touched his own paws to his fur, it was a different temperature than Snufkin’s. His paws had been positively icy. 

Snufkin’s had been cool, a little colder than the dirt they’d been digging up before the Groke appeared. Especially when pressed against Moomin’s snout. 

He shivered a little bit at the thought. Not because of the chill, but because his snout was really sensitive. Moomins had an excellent sense of smell, and Snufkin had smelled like woodsmoke and earth with a hint of decaying leaves.

And stale blood on his breath. 

Snufkin had made them stew to eat, bean soup with bits of fish in it. Moomin wasn’t big on eating meat, it didn’t always agree with his stomach, but Snufkin had meat pretty much every meal unless times were lean and he had to rely on what he plants could forage from the forest. He ate a lot of fish and seafood. 

Neither of which smelled like blood. They smelled, well, _fishy_. 

And Snufkin hadn’t had a chance to really eat any of the stew, not with Sniff stealing their bowls. 

There were no monsters in Moomin Valley. 

But that didn’t mean there weren’t other things. 

Or there hadn’t been any monsters before. 

When Snufkin had handed Moomin the lantern he’d found goodness where on the beach, Snufkin had started moving back towards the forest. The Groke however, hadn’t turned in Snufkin’s direction, but had focused solely on Moomin instead. And then on the lanterns, once Snufkin had got close enough and Moomin could grab his. 

But the Groke had never even glanced in Snufkin’s direction. 

But now that Moomin was thinking about it, he wasn’t sure that she’d been looking _at_ Moomin. In his direction, certainly. And he’d seen his horrified reflection in her eyes. But that didn’t mean she’d been looking straight at him. 

Snufkin had been standing directly behind Moomin, speaking into a shell. 

And the Groke had almost looked as terrified as Moomin had felt, before she’d turned and left, gliding across the ocean after the retreating log with the lanterns resting on top of it. At the time, he’d thought he’d been imagining it, or projecting his own emotions onto her silent face. But now he wondered. 

Why would the Groke be terrified of _Snufkin_?

With an annoyed grunt, he pushed the covers off and sat up, looking towards the window. The moon was nearly full, moonlight streaming in through the shutters. He stood up and walked over, opening the window and staring out. 

His eyes automatically focused as they always did towards Snufkin’s campsite, set up on the border between the stream and the forest. There was a faint movement from outside the tent from what looked like the outline of Snufkin’s hat. 

“There are no monsters in Moomin Valley.” Snufkin’s words tumble around and around in Moomin’s head, like waves rolling a pebble on the shore.

Well, he wasn’t going to get any answers by sitting up here in his room, was he?

Before he could think too deeply about it, Moomin opened the window and quickly climbed down the ladder, making sure not to knock it against any windows in case it woke his parents up. He made it safely to the bottom and took off running over the bridge in a quick jog.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Snufkin asked, his soft voice carrying as Moomin approached the dead campfire. His head was tilted up, gaze focused on the stars above. There was something comfortable and affectionate to Snufkin’s tone, in contrast to the thoughts swirling around in Moomin’s head. 

“Something like that.” Moomin agreed as slowed his steps, suddenly finding himself a bit nervous as he sat down on the log across from Snufkin’s. “I kept thinking.” 

“Oh?” Fondness coloured Snufkin’s tone as he turned away from the stars to turn his attention towards Moomin. He looked like Snufkin, with his familiar round face and dark eyes, always a little worn from the road. He didn’t look tired at all. 

The thought crossed his mind that he’s not sure if he’d actually ever seen Snufkin sleeping. They’ve had sleepovers, but Moomin’s eyes have always fallen shut before Snufkin’s has. Snufkin’s also known for his nighttime walks, and daytime naps, but that’s usually just him with his hat tilted over his face, enjoying the sun. He doesn’t think he’s ever actually seen Snufkin sleep like that. Rest yes, sleep no. 

Snufkin’s tent had no blankets, not even something rolled up to use as a pillow. Just his pack tucked against one wall. 

“It’s about how you said there are no monsters in Moomin Valley.” Moomin blurted. 

“There aren’t any.” Snufkin assured him, but there was a hint of annoyance to it. Something else too, undefinable, like a quick glimpse behind a curtain. 

“I know.” Moomin was quick to reassure. “It’s just that...” He trailed off, looking over his friend and thinking about Snufkin’s many quirks. 

Such as not coming inside the house unless expressly invited. Snufkin had had an open invitation for years, but refused to use it. He avoided his reflection too, either in still water or a mirror. Or how when he spoke or smiled, he rarely showed his teeth. 

Years ago, there’d been a scare in the Valley, of a vampire bat escaping a nearby zoo. Everyone had panicked, afraid of being bitten, and they’d crowded around Pappa’s books, looking for a description of what a vampire looked like. There hadn’t been any pictures, but there had been a list of vampire characteristics, on top of drinking blood. 

A list, that now Moomin was thinking about it, was disturbingly familiar. 

Snufkin had also been the one to take one glimpse of the bat that everyone had thought was the vampire and start laughing, because it was just a bat. In retrospect, it was odd that while Snufkin hadn’t told anyone what a vampire did look like, he’d known exactly what vampires _didn’t_ look like. 

Snufkin knew a lot about various creatures, mythical and not. He also knew the best ways to defeat them too. 

Moomin straightened, squaring his shoulders the best he could, staring directly at Snufkin’s face. “How many monsters did there used to be in Moomin Valley?” 

Something flickered across Snufkin’s face, like a mask slipping for the barest moment. Although his expression didn’t change much, he was somehow suddenly terrifying to gaze at. The air shifted around them, like something unseen was unfurling, released from hidden restraints. 

It left Moomin slightly overwhelmed with the sensation that he was sitting across from the most dangerous creature in the forest.

More dangerous than any hypothetical monsters. 

And yet Moomin felt completely safe at the same time. Whatever his friend has been hiding, he was still Snufkin, and Snufkin wouldn’t hurt him. 

Moomin still nearly jumped when Snufkin tilted his head up and back, the moon hitting his dark eyes and making them glow red, his mouth curling up in a wicked looking smile and flashing a pair of knife-sharp fangs. 

When Snufkin spoke, his voice was a low pleased predatory purr that sent a delicious shiver down Moomin’s spine. 

“Not many.” 

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not gonna lie, was just amused by the idea of Vampire!Snufkin after watching the vampire bat episode of the 90s anime.  
> .... also, if you rewatch the MoominValley episode, Snufkin’s tent being empty is true. Dun-dun-duuunnnnnn


End file.
